nouvellevqgue

[nouvellevqgue]

2024 grid you are so dear to me

[nouvellevqgue]

miss a smau? hit it with this

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ : people teaser / franco colapinto x reader

summary: Imagine having a friend who would spend his time judging and bothering you when he has any other job to do. Annoying, right? Well, this is what happened to a couple of young adults who would do such things to each other in a day-to-day basis, everybody knows that something like this could led to something more. But of course—ever the stubborn couple, who are they to believe? Until days after denying and more teasing, they finally launching their relationship. In a slowest way possible.

warnings: bad concepts, messy layouts, translated spanish, ignore timestamps, veryyyy far from the summary.

yourusername San Francisco, Los Angeles

Liked by francolapinto and 468,195 others

yourusername It's da-bomb! 🍔💥

view all 2,701 comments

francolapinto Relax man no one is going to snatch it from you

username It's his third time posting his annoying ahh comments here like someone please take his phone away from him

yourusername He's obsessed with me that's why 💁🏼‍♀️

francolapinto In your dreams

yourusername Wouldn't even dream of it.

username that period ain't playing tho bruv

username Great, now I'm starving...

username how is she eating that with ever so cutesy and demure 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

alexandrasaintmleux I need to go grab that ASAP! You made me so hungry with this 🙂‍↕️

yourusername You should, it was soooo gewdddd

francolapinto What language is *gewd* exactly

username bro it's clearly unnecessary 😭💀

username At this point they're turning this whole comment section into a bicker space

username the fact the he liked this post faster than kelly liked max's post is immaculate and i bet that this could convince red bull to hire him at some point 🤔

username He left his notification on fr

username Bro can't even be slick even after his experience in teasing them poor reporters

username I need them to be together now

username they can't even handle them bickering in the comment section and now y'all want them to be together???

iMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM

francolapinto

Liked by lewishamilton and 1,142,174 others

francolapinto Muchas cosas pueden pasar en un año.. 😊

view all 10,847 comments

mercedesamgf1 We need to see the selfie

williamsracing 💙

francolapinto Tomando mi lugar de nuevo yourusername

yourusername Fangirl behavior 🙄😒

username Mind yall he didn't even interact, nor liked both teams but with her he did

francolapinto I always have time to reply to my biggest fangirl ever

username Wait what happened

username Solo veo dos cabras

username Queremos ver la selfie, Fran

username quem é esse npc na ultima foto kkkkkkk

username LEWIS ADDED THIS TO HIS STORYYY

username I would be him too

username GOATS 💜💙

username Their fashion difference is soooo😭😭😭😭😭😭

yourusername

Liked by iamrebeccad and 1,863,547 others

yourusername Gonna miss this sooo much after it ends!! See you next weeeeeeekkkkkk 🧜🏻‍♀️💜

view all 742 comments

iamrebeccad That is literally the prettiest, most ethereal make up I've seen today. Hope you've had a good premiere, darling girl 💜💜

username Rebecca liked & commented in just 5 seconds after she posted this is an insane work

username Kelly on Max's instagram:

raye The prettiest!!

username I love my busy and employed queen<3

username omg relationship crusher inspo

username funny how franco is not here to judge her

username I know Vanessa's bad, but like... I'd support her wrongs and rights 😞

username She slayed the look OMG

username I'm in aweee, girl send more to your stories rn

username Cooked, ate, delivered. 🍽️

francolapinto I miss the time when you're curling your hair using balusters...

username This is the very much time he wrote long english to jump into a flashback

username Okay now we've all got our wildest heatless curl methods, BUT BALUSTERS????

yourusername THAT'S UNNECESSARYYYYYYY

username She's serving face and he's there doing a typically embarrassing flashback

username DID SOMEBODY SAID RELATIONSHIP CRUSHER MAKEUP INSPO😭😭😭😭😭😭

username I got on my knees at Walmart

francolapinto Shibuya, Japan

Liked by oscarpiastri and 984,733 others

francolapinto Un recordatorio para no dejar a tu hija sola en público

view all 13,285 comments

username In all of the sudden they're in Shibuya now

username Wait are they finally official?

yourusername My irresponsible friend just took a pic and left 😒👎

alex_albon I wonder who

username THE WHAT

username Alright the rivalry sort of thing is kinda not making any sense by now

username ¿Verdad? Como, ¿qué clase de rival que te haría una foto con una cámara de 35mm?

username i need them to just kiss already

username Guys they're just friends. Can't a guy and a girl befriend in peace?

username is it me or did Oscar is also invested with this whole drama...

username ¿Es ella su novia?

username peor

username They looked like an old married couple doing a tbt here awww

username Alright no lie the pic is kinda fire tho

username Chat is this a hard launch or what

lilymhe A hard launch to a group chat war

username Alex playing dumb and Lily is the admin of their groupchat are NOT on my bingo card for this month

TWITTER

EARLIER THAT DAY, Y/N'S iMESSAGE

MEANWHILE, LILY AND ALEX...

francolapinto added a photo to their story francolapinto · 3h

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername & francolapinto added photos to their story yourusername · 23h

francolapinto ★ · 13h

TWITTER

note from DOLENE: soooooo very sorry that it took me for almost half a year to finish a smau again... my brain's kinda stuck on inspirations these days and hope you all can understand. but either way, i've got something for new years fics and i reaaaaallyy hope that my brain's not blanking out yet in that moment on. and until next time lovelies<3

[nouvellevqgue]

WHAT?????????????

[nouvellevqgue]

P1 I FUCKING KNEW IT

[nouvellevqgue]

Why fanfic writers are disheartened.

My last oneshot is a perfect example. I posted it on Tumblr and on AO3, and over the two platforms, despite 560 likes and 130 hits, there is a total of four comments.

One of them is asking to be on my taglist (nothing wrong with that at all, it's the place to do so). One of them is someone tearing apart the last scene, saying it was rushed and didn't feel believable.

Only two of them are actually nice, encouraging comments about the fic.

Out of 690 people who have likely read my fic, only two people took the time to let me know they appreciated the work.

This oneshot was a request, because I often take requests from people, and write exactly what they want to read. It took about five hours for me to complete and was beta read by another person.

We do this for free, on our own free time, and while we often do it because we are passionate, it would be nice to get some encouragement and some appreciation.

We do this because we love the fandom(s) we’re in. We take the time to invest into them, so might you please take a bit of time to invest in your local fanfic writers?

[nouvellevqgue]

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST LIVES HAVE BEEN CHANGED LEGS HAVE BEEN SPREAD PUSSIES HAVE BEEN DRIPPING

GROTESQUERIE 1.03

[nouvellevqgue]

ANDREW GARFIELD — Ph. by Mark Selinger for Esquire (Oct 02, 2024)

[nouvellevqgue]

NICHOLAS ALEXANDER CHAVEZ as FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW GROTESQUERIE — 1.03

[nouvellevqgue]

you were worth every drop of blood, every sting of the rope. you were his temptation, his punishment, and his salvation all at once. he would willingly suffer for you, again and again.

i'd cry tbh. this is so tragic but romantic at the same time, ugh i want to hug him tight.

† 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — charlie mayhew x f!reader. | mdni

tags: mature content・mentions of religion・angst・flashbacks of smut・fem!reader・self-inflicted flogging・blood・not proofread / wc: 1158

⟡ a/n: sorry if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes. english is not my first language

father charlie mayhew sat on the edge of his narrow bed, the white walls of his private chamber closing in around him. the small space was sparse, almost ascetic, with only a few religious artifacts cluttering the windowsill. the emptiness mirrored the discipline he tried to embody—from the polished metal sink in the corner to the stiff, neatly made bed beneath him. everything in his life was governed by order, by control—everything except you.

he glanced toward the tiny window where rain trickled down the glass, his chest tightening with a dull throb. leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands, fingers pressing into his temples as if he could will you away like a migraine.

but you were always there.

your fingers clawed at the buttons on his collar, desperate and needy—tugging him closer as he struggled to cling to any vestige of control he possessed. plushy lips brushed the edge of his neck, and he could hear the slight tremor in your breathing. “charlie,” you pleaded. not “father” this time. you had stripped him of that sacred title, and reduced him to a man in your arms—a sinner. your body pressed against him, warmth seeped through the fabric of his robes into his bones, hands traveling down the line of his chest, and it was at that point when he realised… he didn’t give a damn about sin or salvation.

rising to his feet, he stripped off his cassock, letting it slip past his shoulders before pooling on the floor. cool air bit against his skin, the bruises and scars on his back crisscrossed the pale skin in a web of guilt. charlie didn’t dare look in the mirror, couldn’t stand to see the evidence of his weakness. instead he knelt down and stared at the cat o’ nine tails resting on the bed before him, its nine strands splayed like serpents awaiting to strike. the handle was a rough wooden club, and as he gripped it tightly, his fingers brushed the frayed ends of the ropes, already darkened with blood and sweat from last night’s penance. he rearranged the nine strands carefully, spreading them out methodically before each lash.

he began to ease himself inside you, the tightness and warmth making him groan into the crook of your neck. he paused briefly, allowing you to place your hands on his shoulders, before fully sheathing himself, dragging out a broken moan from your lips. then he curled an arm around your waist, slowly withdrawing his hips, before thrusting inside you again.

he slammed the whip across his back, the sharp crack echoing through the small room. the nine strands bit into his skin like the nails that had once driven into his saviour’s flesh. pain was instantaneous, cutting through the haze of memory. he sucked in a breath as the second strike followed, then a third.

the heat of your skin burned under his fingertips, the sheets had tangled around your legs in a twisted mess of linen and heat, as you arched beneath him, crying out his name—charlie—over and over, like a prayer. his hand tightened on your waist, guiding your hips against his, guilt warring with the heady pleasure that coursed through him with every deep thrust. he pressed you into the mattress, lips tracing the column of your throat as your thighs clenched around his waist.

charlie’s grip faltered, his body hunching forward as he gasped for air. he could feel blood dripping down his back, onto the floor, but he didn’t care. he deserved this. he needed this.

the punishment was supposed to cleanse him. it was supposed to scourge away the sin. (it never worked, not really.)

he laid the whip down, trembling as he reached out to rearrange the strands, spreading them evenly across the bed before lifting it again. his hands shook as he braced himself for the next blow, muscles tensing as if to ward off the pain he knew was coming.

“don’t stop,” you begged, voice cracking as his body moved against yours, the sudden clench of your walls leaving him dizzy. the sheets were a tangled mess, your hands clutching at them. but it hadn’t been the sheets you clung to in the end—it had been him.

with a swift motion, he brought the whip down again. the impact sent a shockwave of agony through his body, his knees buckling slightly under the force. a guttural sob tore through his chest. fresh welts overlapped the scars from the previous nights, the pain melding together into one throbbing, pulsing reminder of his weakness.

(charlie mayhew was a weak, pathetic man.)

“you’re so beautiful,” you murmured as your nails scraped along his back, leaving faint red marks in their wake. his hips rutted into yours with a rhythm that had made him forget who he was. hand slid beneath the sheets, fingers digging into your flesh before he buried himself deep inside you. you let out a strangled moan, biting down on your lip as your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and it took everything in him not to cry out in response, to keep his own sinful need locked behind his clenched teeth.

the pain was nearly unbearable now, his skin raw and bleeding from the repeated lashes. but still, he struck again, his eyes squeezing shut against the images of you.

(the memory of you writhing beneath him, the sheets twisted around your bodies as his hips rolled into yours, was burned into his soul.)

agony built to a crescendo, the sharp sting of the rope tearing at his flesh, but it still wasn’t enough. it was never enough. chest heaving, he let the whip fall from his hands and clutched the edge of the bed for support. his back was a mess of blood, bruises and torn skin, but the pain in his back was a dull throb compared to the ache in his chest.

you had told him, in the quiet of your shared sin, that you loved him. he hadn’t responded. he couldn’t. because if he had said it back, it would have made everything worse. he couldn’t love you—not the way you wanted him to. not the way he already did.

charlie ran a hand through his hair, slick with sweat, staring blankly at the white walls that had seen too many nights like this one.

he didn’t know how many more nights like this he could endure. how many more times he could sit on the edge of his bed, flogging himself for the pleasure he found in your arms. how many more lashes it would take to absolve him of the sin of loving you.

you were worth every drop of blood, every sting of the rope. you were his temptation, his punishment, and his salvation all at once. he would willingly suffer for you, again and again.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[nouvellevqgue]

and lead us not into temptation...

father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

© caileeflavoured 2024, do not repost, modify or translate!

synopsis: During Confirmation, God the Holy Spirit comes upon the person, accompanied by God the Father and God the Son. Father Mayhew, too.

a/n: ahhh, how good it feels so channel my religious trauma into absolute filth again. I was never Catholic so idk how accurate the stuff I said is but I did research and tried my best (really no one cares about Catholic accuracies why are you even stressing about this girl)

warnings: 18+, SMUT, dubcon, little bit of a corruption kink, innocence kink, clueless little church mouse!reader, blasphemous shit tbh, virginity loss, unprotected sex, a priest absolutely abusing his position,

wc: 3.2k

MAIN MASTERLIST | GROTESQUERIE MASTERLIST

They told you that the Sacrament of Confirmation was the most important event of a young girl growing closer to God. They told you it was an honour to attend this spiritual ceremony, that it was the culmination of forming a bond with Christ. They told you that it was high time you were finally sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Father Charlie Mayhew was adamant that you’d finally receive this great gift, having discussed the possibility of a personal Confirmation with your parents after Sunday Mass.

“She’s at an age where it should already have happened,” he told them. “I assume you wish her to get married soon. She ought to finally be strengthened for service to the Body of Christ.”

Your parents trusted Father Mayhew blindly, believing he was a gift sent to earth by the Lord Himself, and quickly agreed. They wouldn’t want their precious daughter to fall into disgrace should a proper suitor be found sooner rather than later.

The priest nodded, visibly satisfied with their consent. “I can arrange it for next week’s Mass, but I  would like for your daughter to come see me for a private confession. The Lord has spoken to me in my prayers, and has tasked me with properly preparing the confirmands. It’s a standard practice at my church.”

Only that it wasn’t.

Father Mayhew had spent many hours not praying, not studying the Scripture, not preparing new sermons since he first saw you in all your womanly glory at Mass. Instead, he often found himself in his office, his pants growing uncomfortably tight just at the thought of you attending Mass every Sunday like the faithful girl you are, hanging on his every word. 

And when you’d get on your knees during the Eucharistic prayer…

His hand would always find its way to his throbbing length during a quiet moment after Mass, the grip on his cock nearly painful as he worked himself towards the highest of highs. And more often than not he would later find white stains on his liturgical vestments, having to go through several clerical outfits in the span of only a few days.

“Tell her to come see me on Wednesday after general confession hour.”

So your parents sent you on your way, Bible in hand, rosary wrapped around your wrist. You entered the empty church, standing between the pews as you clutched your Bible to your chest.

“Father Mayhew?” A timid call for him echoed through the large building, and soon he appeared. 

His chest heaved as he appeared, his robe sitting weirdly on his shoulders as if he had pulled it over his head in a hurry. His hair messy, not slicked back like he usually wore it. 

The appearance caught you off guard, to say the least, and made your blood pressure rise.

“Ah, my new confirmand!” He greeted you with an open-arm gesture, then clasped his hands together. “Happy to see you. What an exciting time it must be for you.”

He closed the distance between you, turning to your side and placing his hand on your back as he led you towards the back of the church. “Let’s go talk in my office,” he said.

“I thought I came to confess?” You asked in bewilderment. “Oughtn’t we sit down in the confessional booth for that?”

But he was quick to shut down your confusion. “No. No, no, no. Let’s not stick to such ancient traditions. I’ve come to learn, in my time as a servant of the Lord, that private confessions are best made in the comfort of a priest’s office. Shall we?”

He opened the door to his office, letting you enter first before closing the door behind his back and quickly turning the lock before you would notice.

“Take a seat,” he motioned towards the armchair on the opposite side of his desk as he sat down in his own chair.

He leaned back and observed you with relaxed eyes. His stoic gaze was intimidating to you, your heart thumping against your ribcage the longer he stared.

“Father?”

The sound of your voice ripped him out of his dirty fantasy, his focus returning to the there and then, which, admittedly, didn’t help much when his hard cock ached from the torturing restraint of his pants.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, bending forward hoping it would cover the growing bulge. “Now, I have to admit I wasn’t quite honest with your parents,” he chuckled smugly.

The picture of you furrowing your brows as you slightly cocked your head to the side in a confused gesture made him lose a couple drops of cum into his boxers. How could a young girl be so cluelessly devoted to God. To him. It made him lose his mind, and throw his holy vows overboard.

To hell with abstinence. Some girls just asked for it. And he knew you were one of them. 

Gifted by the devil himself, a test of his faith and obedience — the bishop had warned him many years ago that the day would come when he would find himself face to face with temptation — and presented on a silver platter right there in his own church. To him, however, a young, ripe girl like you could only have found her way into his office so he could chase the feeling of his former life.

To remind himself how good it felt to lose himself in the warmth of a tight cunt.

“I understand your parents are hoping to find you a husband soon,” Father Mayhew began. “But Confirmation isn’t the only thing necessary in preparation for marriage. You know, there are certain… other things a young woman must be prepared for before she can fulfil her duties of a devout wife.”

“Father, I don’t—”

His hand shot up, immediately shutting down any doubts or concerns you might try to raise. “Tell me… Have you ever touched yourself? After all, this is some kind of confession here, right? God needs you to be completely honest with me.”

He could sense the warmth rush to your cheeks, the way your breath hitched in your throat as your gaze shifted to the floor.

“A simple yes or no will suffice, sweetheart,” he pressed. “This is crucial for your preparation as a confirmand.” His eyes searched for yours. “You can even nod or shake your head if that’s easier.”

Then, finally, he got a reaction out of you. A timid… shake from left to right. “It’s a sin, Father.”

The change in his demeanour evaded you. The way his eyes turned into slits resembling those of a snake, the way he ever so slightly shifted in his seat as his hand carefully moved to his crotch.

A moment of silence passed in Father Charlie’s office as he let your words sink in. You had been even more clueless than he’d imagined. An enticing temptation, one that he had no choice but to succumb to.

“That is very admirable,” he praised you. “However,” he got up, “as part of this… preparation I need you to be… how should I say this… open to… sexual activities.”

He walked around his desk in a few long strides until he stood in front of you and leaned against the edge of the table, folding in hands in front of his crotch as he crossed his legs. He could feel his cock press against his palms through the fabric of his pants, begging to be freed.

“Why should—” You tried to ask, but his hand was quick to shoot up in a silencing gesture. That’s when you first noticed the bulge in his pants.

With your eyes glued to his crotch, Charlie could barely hold himself back from dragging you across his desk and shoving his cock right into your tight little cunt, no matter if you were ready for him or not.

“Get on your knees,” he said in a plain voice. You obeyed instantly.

He took the Bible and rosary from your hands and placed them on his desk before standing up right in front of you, your mouth so perfectly aligned with his length. A few quick movements got him rid of his pants and boxers just enough to pull out aching cock, tip glistening with drops of precum.

He watched your eyes go wild in shock, although he silently wished they would have gone wide from excitement and lust. He’d get you there soon enough…

“From now on, I need you to listen to me, sweetheart,” he instructed. “No more questions, no ifs and buts, alright?”

His eyes stayed focused on yours until you nodded, and he pinched your chin with his thumb and index finger as a gesture of approvement. A pleased look on his face and a satisfied smirk on his lips, he then let his thumb graze along your lower lip before pushing it in.

“Open up.” His voice turned rough, strained even, as he pulled your jaw down and forced your mouth open. 

He could detect a sliver of fear glistening in your eyes as the tip of his cock met your lip, could sense your wanting to ask what he was doing, but was pleased to see you resist the urge to question his actions. 

So he pushed it in. “Yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, feeling your lips instinctively close around him. “Careful with those teeth.”

His hand found the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair to get a good grip and properly guide your movements. He pulled back and pushed back in, this time all the way until he heard and felt you gag around him. 

He stopped once he could feel the back of your throat, watching you struggle and start to panic, your hands moving up to the sides of his hips in an attempt to push him back. But, of course, he was too strong for you. 

“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “You’re doing so well.” 

He started to pick up a pace slow enough to relish the feeling of your mouth and not already waste his seed by shooting it into the back of your throat. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out, watching the string of spit connect his tip to your bottom lip with a grin.

“You see,” he started to explain, “in order to become a full-grown adult, which you will be after your Confirmation, you need to understand certain things. And, as the priest of your church, it is my duty to teach you the necessary lessons to let you go out into world with a clear conscience.”

He watched you intently, gauging your reaction to each and every word of his. You were still kneeling in front of him so he bent down, continuing to observe you at eye level. His breath came in slow, hot bursts as it repeatedly hit your face.

“You understand now why I have to do this, do you?” He asked.

You nodded, albeit hesitantly. 

“And you also understand that this is to stay between me and you, and me and you only, right?”

He waited for another nod, and when it wouldn’t come, he raised an eyebrow, his hand gripping your jaw tightly. 

“Do you understand?” He repeated with more force.

“Y-yes,” you mumbled. 

He let go of your jaw, clicking his tongue in approval. “Good. Now I need you to take your clothes off.”

His patience was starting to run thin, especially with the way he couldn’t find any release from this achingly throbbing tension. “Listen, we don’t have much time, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. This body of yours…” 

This fucking body I need to desecrate. This body, this… tight virgin cunt.

“This body is a gift from God, wonderful and perfect like all His creations. And…” A mischievous smirk appeared on his face. “It’s not like I have never seen a woman’s body before.”

He watched your shy reaction, and your inhibitions crumble slowly. So he gave you one last push. “I’ll take my clothes off too,” he said, beginning to shed his clerical robes. “That way we’re even.”

Father Charlie watched you with satisfaction as you rid yourself of your clothes item by item. “Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

Once the last of his garments dropped on the ground, he told you to sit back down on the armchair, placing his hands on either side of you as he bent over you. His eyes travelled along your frame, wandering over the hills and valleys of your young, unsullied body.

“I need you to move your hand between your legs,” he said. “Touch yourself.”

This time you did what he said without hesitation. He could see your chest starting to heave, your breath visibly and audibly quickening as your hand slowly glided down your chest until it came into contact with your pure pussy for the first time.

“Fuck…” Charlie breathed, the grip on the armrest tightening as he fought the urge to fist his cock for at least some kind of relief. “Yes, just like that. Now push a finger in.”

You did.

“Does it feel wet? Does it slide in easily?” He asked as he observed how your lips parted at the initial sensation of pleasuring yourself.

You nodded.

“Try pushing in a second finger,” he commanded.

You did, your forehead creasing once it slipped all the way in.

“How does that feel? Tell me.”

“It feels…” You began, but couldn’t quite put it into words.

“Good?” He finished for you.

You nodded again.

“Try curling them upwards, like this,” he gestured a come hither movement with his own fingers for you to mimic.

And you did.

“But Father…” You gulped, “isn’t this… a sin?” You asked as you kept moving your hand.

He shook his head. “How can a natural urge be a sin? The Lord gave it to us.”

“I know, but—” His hand was back on your jaw, his digits pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“No ifs and buts, remember?” he reminded you, his gaze sharp. 

He quickly glanced at the clock. “You’ve been talking too much. Get up.”

You did as you were told while Charlie pushed the clutter off his desk, his movements rushed. He grabbed you by the back of your thighs, practically slamming you onto the desk and standing between your spread thighs.

So close to that heavenly cunt…

“The reason I’m doing this is because it is my duty as a priest,” he said leaning over you, his hand moving down your neck, over your collarbone, then closer and closer towards your chest.

“You need to know what it will be like to lay with your future husband,” he explained, his length pressing against your dripping core as his lips found your neck.

You reacted to his touches so organically, almost like second nature. Like this wasn’t your first time ever experiencing any kind of sexual activity.

Father Charlie knew he finally had you right where he wanted you. Where he needed you.

“It might hurt,” he mumbled against your neck as his hands cupped your tits, your nipples immediately trapped between his fingers as he pinched and pulled on them. “But that pain is gonna turn into something so much better. I promise.”

His lips travelled down your neck as he pushed you back onto the flat, cold surface of his desk, the temperature a stark contrast to your heated body. His tongue glided along your sternum, first to the left, around your now hardened nipple, then to the right, repeating the same process.

Charlie could hear your laboured breaths slowly but surely transform into hot gasps, soft moans falling from your lips whenever his tongue or fingers would graze the sensitive buds of your breasts. He knew he could take it further without much clueless confusion on your part.

He knew he could finally take you like he had wanted to for so long.

So he pushed into you in one rough motion, not stopping until he could feel the soft tissue of your hymen collapse under the pressure of his cock. 

You cried out, your hands instinctively gripping his strong arms, but he was quick to collect both your wrists in one hand and pin them above your head as he grabbed your thigh with the other. 

“Shh, shh,” he shut you up as he pulled your leg up and around his waist, allowing himself to fuck you from a different angle that would make it easier for him to fully thrust into your virgin cunt.

And, Lord, what a tight little cunt you had.  

His breaths escaped his lungs in ragged grunts as he pushed into you again and again, feeling your tight walls give in more and more to make him fit the longer he kept ramming his cock into you. The desk creaked under the pressure of his body colliding with yours, the wood bending with each new thrust that would allow him to slip further into your silky core. 

“Father—” You pleaded, arms unsuccessfully straining against his grip. “It… hurts.”

“Told you. But not much longer,” he said, his voice ragged as he ignored your attempts to make him stop. “Trust me.”

He could feel himself getting there, could feel how difficult it became to keep a steady rhythm. You were squeezing him in the best way possible, and he couldn’t even begin to think about how it would feel to have you milk his every last drop. 

His moans echoed off the walls of his small office when he felt you start to relax around him. “Yeah, that’s right,” he grunted, his voice nearly failing him. “Let me hear you.”

His thumb pulled your bottom lip down so your mouth would fall open, letting those sweet, clueless whines escape your throat freely. That was all he took as a confirmation of your starting to enjoy the way he was fucking you.

And that was all he needed to find his most earth shattering release so far. He pulled out quickly, finishing off with a couple more strokes before he shot hot spurts of his cum right onto your newly stretched and glistening cunt. 

“Look at me,” he groaned as he rode out his high, his eyes fixed on you, your heaving chest, your skin covered in a slight sheen of sweat, your cunt defiled and disgraced by your priest’s cum.

“Now you’re all set for Confirmation,” he said as he helped you up, then handed you a towel. “Make sure you’re clean before you come back for Sunday Mass. And remember, don’t tell your parents. If you can do that for me, I’ll show you much more if you want me to.”

They told you that during Confirmation, God the Holy Spirit comes upon the person, accompanied by God the Father and God the Son. They didn’t tell you Father Mayhew did, too.

[nouvellevqgue]

alright now unemployment is fr

i hate to say the least but logan sargeant needs to fight. LIKE MAN, DON'T BE TOO SOFT ON THESE GUYS, YOU'VE BEEN EVERYTHING BUT SO KIND AND LOOK WHAT THE OTHERS DID TO YOU😭😭😭

[nouvellevqgue]

mclaren tainted his first win so bad

[nouvellevqgue]

Could you do SMAU for Fernando Alonso with wife baker!reader? She would always bring something with her every time she went to the paddock. So, everyone was looking forward to it when shes gonna grave them with her presence. Nando would always fight for her attention with everyone. The Internet also loves her very much indeed. Something fluff and maybe a little suggestive 👀You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

﹙𝒮weetest pie : fernando alonso x reader﹚

she certainly steals the attention of the people around her, especially when everyone likes her new brand that she just introduced recently. but what's wrong if a certain person fights for her attention more when they also begs for hers over time?

yourusername

liked by iamrebeccad and 858,613 others

yourusername Introducing Sonreír. 10/10/24

view all 2,602 comments

astonmartinf1 CAN'T WAIIITTT!! 🤤💚

username AM and Fernando are so lucky to have her for the rest of y'alls life

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enchante Not so fast

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username 37

username WYM SHE'S 37???????????

felipedrugovich I really miss your handmade pastries that you've always bring when you're in our facility

lance_stroll Hate to admit it but yeah... I miss that too honestly

username HE BROUGHT HIM INTO A CONFESSION CENTER. EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU FELIPE

username well this is unexpected, lance

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username Her new brand in fashion items and pastries

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fernandoalo_oficial I can't believe it myself too

username I THOUFHT U WONLDNT REOLY😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by astonmartinf1 and 638,101 others

yourusername Are you alerted yet?

view all 759 comments

username First ☝️😋

fernandoalo_oficial Second ✌️🫤

username I'm waiting for cafe kitsune to get mentioned

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username HOW MANY DAYS IS IT UNTIL LAUNCHING??

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fernandoalo_oficial Of course! Because she's my WIFE

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fernandoalo_oficial 🥰🥰🥰🥰

username Go back to bed grandpa

on twitter...

sonreir

liked by enchante and 21,730 others

sonreir Wild and Bewildered. Now available at sonreir.com

view all 127 comments

yourusername Wild and Bewildered bag is available now ❤️💋

username WE'RE GETTING IT NOW EVERYBODY CHEER

fernandoalo_oficial Sure i'll be buying, sweetheart

username MAN WHY R U EVERYWHERE

username That walk is phenomenal

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yourusername Check out ＠sonreircafe babes💋

username That drink looks good 🤤🤤

yeslydimate OMG THAT LOOKS SO PRETTY🥰😍

username She's so cute <3

fernandoalo_oficial Of course my WIFE

username okay, easy with the caps now

sonreircafe added a photo to their story!

sonreircafe · 17h

alo.png (private)

liked by alex_albon and 258 others

alo.png I might kiss those lips if she kept teasing me with it...

show all 56 comments

alex_albon Whoa

mickschumacher Didn't expect this to even happen but I mean... What am I even expecting 🤷‍♂️

lance.stroll I thought this side of you were only a gossip

lilymhe Easy, she isn't going anywhere

fernandoalo_oficial Just for you ❤️❤️ ＠yourusername

charles_leclerc Get a room!

fernandoalo_oficial Don't worry, we will

yourusername Oh my god 😭😭

estebanocon Don't be embarrassed, Y/n. This is a rare thing to see

pierregasly stfu

estebanocon WHAT DID I DO TO YOU????

[nouvellevqgue]

i hate to say the least but logan sargeant needs to fight. LIKE MAN, DON'T BE TOO SOFT ON THESE GUYS, YOU'VE BEEN EVERYTHING BUT SO KIND AND LOOK WHAT THE OTHERS DID TO YOU😭😭😭

[nouvellevqgue]

Am I only biding time until I lose your attention? Nothing New // Taylor Swift

[nouvellevqgue]

Real question what’s up with reporters  asking unprofessional questions to drivers because Logan during media day Thursday got asked by French TV how it feels to be the slowest driver in F1 and to me there is a fine line of what is okay to ask and what’s completely off limits and those questions should be off limits because what type of answer do they expect from him??

[nouvellevqgue]

Poster Request: "anything with pato o'ward and this year's indy 500" (2024) i still don’t know this man but from what i can tell he's sad and everyone's sad

get well soon!

here's some process work :) it was fun to try a different style ! i've been wanting to work with full bleed and typography more so this was a fun little exercise